At about a certain age,

Probably around eight years old,

Almost every boy will want their own wallet.

Not much thought goes into it,

Not until the arrival at the store,

If their parents decide to purchase one.

I did not get that, “if,”

My parents denied me the right,

I could not own a wallet.

However, my older brother,

He had a different idea,

He decided to give me one of his wallets.

It was a black canvas trifold,

With an image of two hunting dogs,

Pressed into the leather, stitched on the front.

Since then, I have come to own many wallets,

Most end being plain while a few,

Could be considered intricate and/or expensive.

Almost all of the wallets I have owned,

End up in the pockets of my younger brothers,

With the only exception being that first one.